


What Richie Said

by Aisalynn



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisalynn/pseuds/Aisalynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy reluctantly goes to visit Richard at the hospital after her disastrous birthday, and hears some astonishing information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Richie Said

Buffy hated hospitals. 

Like really, _really_ hated them. Besides the children killing demons and the vampires in the morgue and the doctors who turned out to be evil, bi-gender hellgods intent on killing her little sister, they were just plain _creepy_ ; with their long echo-y hallways and the nurses in scrubs with drab colors like mossy green and slate gray that stared at you as you passed them, and the freaky cafeteria attendant with the weird eyes and did she mention that she _really_ hated hospitals?

Well, she did. 

So much so that it was taking all her so-called Slayer bravery just to walk to the hospital doors. See? She thought to herself as she stood just on the outside of the glass. _You can stand in front of the doors, no big deal._ The automatic doors opened and a patient in a wheelchair came out. She was being pushed by a nurse wearing dull blue scrubs who stared at Buffy as she went by. Buffy shuddered. _Standing is good. Actually going inside? Not so much._

“Come on, Buffy. You can do this. The guy got stabbed by a dissolving demon at your house. The least you can do is make sure he is okay. Just visit for a bit and leave before any demons or comet-brought space aliens force you to do something Slayer-y and spend more time than you need to here.”

Self given pep talk over with, Buffy took a deep breath and walked into the hospital. She went straight to the information desk and asked for Richard’s room, talking to, she was sure, the only vaguely human-like hospital employee in the place. 

“So glad I asked Xander for Richard’s last name,” Buffy muttered as she waited for the elevator. “’Cause that would have gone over so well. ‘Hi, I’m looking for Richard. No, I don’t know his last name. But he came in with a giant sword wound across his stomach and might have been raving about disappearing demons and a cursed house that wouldn’t let you leave. Do you have a room number?’” Buffy snorted. “Yeah. Like that wouldn’t get me put in the loony bin. Again.”

Someone cleared their throat behind her and Buffy whipped her head around, blushing when she saw a woman and a little girl standing behind her. “Going up?” The woman asked, gesturing to the opening elevator doors. 

“Yeah,” Buffy muttered and quickly got on. _Great. Way to show that you actually do belong here, Buffy._

Richard’s room was fortunately near the elevators, but also, _unfortunately_ directly across from the nurses station. Buffy avoided their eyes as she made her way to the room. Was it part of their job to stare at people like they think you’re going to try to poison their patients or something? Really, how often did something like that even happen, anyway?

Then again. It was the Hellmouth. 

Taking a deep breath, Buffy opened the door to Richard’s room and poked her head in. Damn. He was awake. If he’d been unconscious she could have just sat by his bed for a few minutes, maybe write him a note with a nurse before making her escape. Pasting what she hoped was a sympathetic smile and not a grimace on her face, she stepped into the room. 

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

He gave her a small smile and pushed a button on the bed so that he was sitting up. “I’ve been better.” He looked like he had. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had a sickly pale look that she thought made him seem very unattractive. 

Funny, that. Since pale and deathly was the look she usually went for. 

Or at least pale and dead. 

She sat down on the chair beside the bed and hoped her smile didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “Yeah. I bet you have. It’s not every day that your flesh comes in such close contact with a sword blade.” At least, not if you weren’t her. 

His brows furrowed as he frowned. “Yeah.” 

He didn’t say anything else and Buffy shifted uncomfortably in the silence. How exactly were you supposed to explain a demon coming out of _the wall_ and stabbing them with a big sword to someone? She had no idea what to say to him. 

With an awkward smile, she tried for something light hearted. “Well, I guess you probably won’t want to come to any more parties at my place, huh? It got pretty weird with the not being able to leave and the, uh…sword wound and…everything.” Okay. That probably wasn’t the best way to go with this conversation. 

“Yeah. I mean, I thought it was pretty weird _before_ all that.” He shook his head and grimaced. 

“Huh? You thought it was weird _before?_ ” Really? She hadn’t thought so. In fact, even including the vengeance spell and the demon she had thought it was actually one of her _better_ birthdays. What had been weird about it?

“Well, yeah. There was that guy with the weird skin condition, and Anya kept talking about her sex life, and the red headed girl, Willow, she was really twitchy the whole time. I mean, she completely flipped out when Anya mentioned something about magic. I don’t know why she was so weirded out by a card game. I used to play _Magic, The Gathering_ all the time in high school.” Buffy tried to smile when he glanced at her, but if he noticed she didn’t quite succeed he didn’t let on. He just kept talking. “And then there was the girl who was allergic to _everything_ , and the gay guy and I know Xander said you guys were a little strange but--”

“Whoa! Wait.” Buffy interrupted him. “What gay guy?” 

He looked at her in confusion. “You know, the gay guy.” When she continued to just stare at him he went on. “Dressed in all black? Bruises on his face? Billy Idol hair?”

“ _Spike?_ You think _Spike_ is gay?” Her fake, awkward smile had long since dropped. She was astonished. Incredulous even. How could he think Spike, of all people, was gay? He was the last person she’d ever suspect of having anything less than completely straight tendencies. 

“Isn’t he? I mean, it was obvious you were hiding something about him the whole night and then there were those comments about eating and “being careful what you put in your mouth,” so when he asked me if I worked out I just assumed…” He trailed off at the expression on her face. “Hey.” He held up his hands in the universal sign of peace. “I don’t have a problem with it, if that’s what you think. I mean, I already knew about Willow and Tara so I don’t understand why you guys didn’t just tell me.” He stopped. “He is gay, isn’t he?”

Suddenly, Buffy’s day had gotten a _whole_ lot better. A slow smile made its way to her lips, and this time it was real. “Yeah, Richard. Spike’s gay.” Oh, this was just too _good._ “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but it’s a touchy subject for him. He isn’t quite “out” yet, ya know?”

Richard nodded understandingly. “Yeah. I have a cousin who went through that. He was always really defensive, tried to be seen as tough so no one would question his masculinity.” 

Her smile grew wider. “Yeah,” she nodded. “That’s it exactly. The whole black clothes, tough guy thing is just an act to cover up how sensitive he really is. In reality he’s very, very gay. He’s like one of my girlfriends. We go shopping and everything. And he’s really into musical theater. Terrible voice though.” She pretended to grimace. “Poor thing will never make it on Broadway like he dreams.” She ducked her head, trying to hide her grin. Her insides were hurting from trying so hard not to laugh.

“Well, he could always try for regular theater, no singing or anything. It would probably help him out of the closet, too. My cousin did some theater and it certainly helped him with his fears.” His face held an expression of such friendly concern that Buffy knew she had to get out of there, and fast. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll tell him that.” She stood up. “Listen, I’ve got a shift at the Doublemeat so I need to head out. I’m glad you’re doing okay, and I’m so sorry once again about the sword thing.” 

“Thanks for coming.” He smiled. “And hey, tell your friend that if he needs any advice I could give him my cousin’s number. Who knows, they might hit it off.” 

Oh god. She needed to leave. _Now_. “I’ll--I’ll do that. Bye Richard.” 

“Bye.”

The door had barely closed behind her before she doubled over, laughing so hard tears started streaming down her face. 

He thought Spike was gay.

He thought Spike was _gay_. 

And what’s more, he tried setting him with his gay cousin. 

Oh god. That was just too. fucking. _perfect_. 

Still laughing like a loon, Buffy made her way to the elevators. The nurses stared at her as she passed their station, but this time she didn’t care. She knew exactly where she needed to go now. 

 

***

 

He knew she was there. He sensed her the second she stepped onto the ladder. What was it to be this time, he wondered. The candle again? Maybe she’d throw his shoe at him. Or do what she did last time and just grab the mattress and flip him out of the bed. He kept his eyes closed and face buried in the pillow, listening as she walked to the bed. He tensed when she got to it, preparing for whatever she was about to do, but she just sat down on the side of the bed and sighed. 

Well. That was different. 

When she didn’t do anything else he finally gave up and rolled over. She was staring down at him, a serious, disappointed little frown on her face. 

Uh oh. 

“Spike,” she said slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Bugger. What did he do now? He tried to think back and figure out what she could be talking about, but everything bad he’d done in the last couple of weeks would make her furious and yelling, not looking at him with this sad disappointment. “Tell you what, pet?”

She shook her head. “You know, I should be angry that you kept this from me. But really, I’m just hurt.”

Shit. This was bad. He sat up, worrying even more when, as the sheet fell away, her eyes didn’t flicker involuntarily over his body as they usually did. Instead she just continued to stare at his face with that intense, hurt look. He reached for her hands. “What did I keep from you, love?”

She jerked her hands away from him and stood up, pacing back and forth and waving her arms around as she spoke. “I should have guessed it. I mean, the bleached hair, the fingernail polish--there were definite signs. But really, how was I supposed to know you’d rather spend all your time with Xander than with me?” 

Huh? What was she going on about? He hated the whelp. Why the hell would he want to hang around him? 

“And to think, all the time we had sex you really didn’t want to.”

“Now wait a minute!” he interjected. 

“You could have _told_ me, I would have _understood_. You didn’t have to pretend to be in love with me just so no one would find out--”

“Hold on there! Buffy, what’re you--”

“Though really, why you would pick a Slayer to pretend with I don’t know. I mean, one would think you _like_ pain or something. Oh.” She finally stopped talking and turned to face him. “Is that a common thing with gay men?”

Spike just gaped at her, completely at a loss for what to say. “Buffy,” he finally managed to choke out, “are you trying to say that--how you--where could you possibly have gotten he idea--I mean--Do you think I’m _gay_?” It all came out in a jumbled mess, so disbelieving was he. 

She smiled at kindly down at him. “Yes, Spike. I’ve heard all about it.”

He sputtered a few more times before finally spitting out a “I’m not gay!” 

She sighed. “Spike, _I know_. You don’t have to hide anymore. I’m just upset you didn’t tell me. I would have understood. I mean, it explains a lot, actually. The weird tension with Xander, why you stayed with Giles so long when you first got your chip… And I always wondered about you and Angel. I mean, a hundred years living with one another, you two were sure to get _close_.”

“One drunken night in Italy with Angel does not make me a sodding poofter!” 

She just continued to smile gently down at him. “A ‘poofter,’ huh? Is that what you call it?” She reached forward and patted his hand. “Well, whatever makes you feel better.” 

Spike took a deep, steadying breath. “Buffy,” he began carefully, “where did you get the idea--which is complete rubbish, by the way--that I was gay?” 

“Xander’s friend Richard told me.” 

“Richard?” She nodded and he scowled, lip curling into a sneer as he thought about the boy Xander and Anya had tried to set Buffy up with. If anyone was gay, it was him. He probably spent more time in front of a mirror than all the Scooby girls combined. And who highlighted their hair like that, anyway? Bloody poof. “And how the _bloody hell_ would _Richie_ know that I was gay?”

“Oh, he figured it out at the party. You see, he knew we were hiding something about you, and he was smart enough to figure it out. But really, it was so obvious,” she wasn’t smiling gently at him now, but smirking, her lips quirking and her eyes glittering with nothing less that malicious glee. “What with the wannabe Billy Idol look--”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that _he_ took this look from _me!_ ”

“--and all the staring you did at him, and the asking him if he _worked out_.” 

Spike cursed. “ _Bloody, buggering hell_. Of all the--”

“Oh, it gets better.” She was full out grinning at him now, enjoying his humiliation to the fullest. Bitch. “He was very sympathetic about the whole thing, Spikey. He suggested you try theater to help you ‘out of the closet.’ He even had a gay cousin he wanted to set you up with. Thought you two would look cute together.” 

Spike had had enough. “Sod it all, that’s _it_.” He reached up and grabbed her wrist, roughly pulling her down to the bed before rolling over and pinning her with his body. “I’ll show you gay,” he growled and kissed her. 

She laughed into the kiss, breaking away to gasp and giggle as he nibbled his way down her neck. “Are you--” gasp “--sure you want--” giggle “--to do this, Spikey? You sure you don’t want to give Richard’s cousin a call?” 

“Shut up,” he muttered and he roughly pulled her shirt over her head. For a few minutes after the only sounds she made were breathy gasps and stifled moans, and Spike was glad to push the whole humiliating conversation from his mind. 

Until:

“Wait. _What_ was that about you and Angel?”


End file.
